


Distance

by makkurataichou



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: M/M, Sorey wants to touch Mikleo's hair, amongst other things, episure, fade to black spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12280959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkurataichou/pseuds/makkurataichou
Summary: Mikleo is only a few steps away, but he's been gone for so long that the space between them feels wide and daunting, almost as though it won't go away even if they stand side-by-side.





	Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Comm for [Elle](https://twitter.com/ssm50639)! I LOVE EPISURE so this was an absolute pleasure to write! Thank you so much for the request!! TT^TT

The wind blows steadily as Sorey and Mikleo exit the ruins of Mt. Mabinogio, making their way back to Elysia. The skies are clear and sunlight bathes the land, and Sorey feels completely at peace.

He glances over at Mikleo, who is a few steps ahead of him. His shoulders are broad, looking as though they could bear the weight of the world, and his long, pale hair flows behind him in the wind, tied in a high ponytail. He looks so different, so confident, so _incredibly handsome_ that Sorey can hardly stand it. He never thought Mikleo could become any more gorgeous than he already was, and yet seven-hundred centuries later he finds himself proven completely wrong. The seraph has completely grown into his element—he is cool, calm, and collected, but Sorey can still see the boyishness from their childhood in his features and gestures.

“We’re home, Sorey,” comes Mikleo's voice suddenly, gentle and refreshing like the winter breeze. “Do you recognize these gates?”

Without hesitation, Sorey nods. “Of course I do,” he replies fondly. “I still have my memories, and even if I didn't, I could never forget what home looks like.”

Mikleo gives him a smile laced with sadness. “You'd be surprised at what humans forget when they become seraphim, Sorey,” he says, his tone wistful. “Friends, families, lovers…humans really take their memories for granted.”

He turns to face the gates, staff in hand. “I was so afraid you'd forget all about us...about _this_ ,” he continues. “Just being able to bring you back, Sorey...it really is a miracle. I'm sure everyone else will agree.”

Sorey swallows. It's hard to imagine how the centuries must have felt to his family in Elysia. Time passes slowly for seraphim, but it passes nonetheless, and he feels guilt swirling around in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that he never really said goodbye.

Almost as if sensing his thoughts, Mikleo speaks again. “You don't need to apologize, Sorey. Not to me, and not to anyone else.” He turns his head to glance at Sorey over his shoulder, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “We’re just glad to have you back.”

Sorey nods again, slowly this time. “Thank you, Mikleo,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I'm glad to be back.”

* * *

When the seraphim cluster around Sorey and hold him close, he lets his tears fall freely. He can feel how much his body has missed the warmth of others, feel the longing in his own limbs as he holds his family back and cries along with them.

When he pulls away, he sees Mikleo standing in the distance, watching the sight with affection in his eyes, and all of a sudden Sorey cannot look away. He feels as though the breath has been knocked out of his lungs, because Mikleo looks so different, and yet his expression is exactly the same as he remembers. The others seem to notice that he’s distracted, because they step back to give him space, satisfied with their welcome.

 _‘Mikleo.’_ Sorey feels a sudden urge to reach out to him, but he holds back. Mikleo is only a few steps away, but he's been gone for so long that the space between them feels wide and daunting, almost as though it won't go away even if they stand side-by-side. His fingers twitch with anticipation, and he grips the hem of his shirt instead as the water seraph approaches him calmly.

“Will you be okay to stay with me for a while?” he asks, and Sorey notices that he sounds bashful, like he’s seventeen again. “Your house is empty, but I haven't cleaned it in a while, so your things are probably covered in dust—”

“It's fine!” Sorey cuts in, grinning wide. “I'll get to spend more time with you that way, so I don't mind!”

Mikleo laughs, and it's like music to Sorey's ears. “Alright then. The door’s always open, so feel free to wander in whenever you'd like.”

He nods and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a single word in, two pairs of hands latch onto Mikleo's arms.

“Mikleo, Mikleo!” a young voice chants, one that Sorey doesn't recognize. “Will you let us braid your hair today, Mikleo? You promised!”

Sorey sees the seraph’s expression soften almost instantly. “Fine,” he huffs, trying to sound indignant even though his heart has clearly been melted. “I'm in a good mood today, so I'll allow it.”

The children cheer, and Mikleo gives Sorey an apologetic look before he's tugged away in the opposite direction. Sorey can only watch as his best friend is dragged further and further away from him, and he can't help the hint of jealousy that bubbles up within his chest at the sight.

Natalie comes up behind him and places a hand on his shoulder. “We should talk,” she offers. “I'll make us some tea.”

* * *

Mikleo looks grumpy where he is seated in the grass, cross-legged, while children tug at his hair and weave flowers into it at every possible opportunity. Sorey watches the sight from a distance, feeling just as grumpy.

“I want to touch his hair too,” he murmurs, a pout tugging at his lips. “Why do they get to have all the fun? Mikleo hasn't seen me in centuries.”

Natalie giggles. “It's okay to be jealous,” she says knowingly. “I know it's been a long time, but those kids haven't seen him in months. He's always out traveling, and this is the first time he's been back during the day.”

Sorey is silent. He doesn't know what to think—a part of him is happy that their village has grown, but another part of him still wants to be the center of Mikleo's attention. He knows it's selfish, that he can't expect Mikleo to have cried over him for centuries without caring about anyone or anything else, but he also can't help how he feels.

He clenches his hand into a fist and unfurls his fingers, repeating the gesture several times in an attempt to hold himself back. He really, _really_ wants to run his hands through Mikleo's hair too— it's probably soft, much softer than it was when they were teenagers. He wants to hear Mikleo sigh at the touch of his fingertips, even as they leave his hair and trace his face, his neck, his shoulders, his chest—

Sorey stops himself there, feeling his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. He hopes that Natalie won't notice, but with the way her smile grows, it's obvious that she does

“For what it's worth, Mikleo missed you a lot, too,” she tells him. “He spent most of his time reading the Celestial Record and taking notes, and that's why he's been away so much.” She shrugs. “Now that you're here, though, he has a bigger reason to stay in Elysia.”

Sorey frowns. “I never meant to keep Mikleo from the rest of you,” he says softly. “I don't have the right to be here...or to want Mikleo to myself—”

She raises a hand to stop him. “You’ve always had the right, Sorey,” she insists. “Elysia is your home, and we're your family.” She gives him a quick wink. “And trust me, Mikleo feels pretty strongly in that department, too. Just tell him how you feel, okay?”

“Okay,” Sorey sighs. “I'll try.”

* * *

Mikleo returns home just as the sun begins to set over Elysia. Sorey is already in bed, covers pulled up to his chest as he reads one of Mikleo's books, when the seraph in question walks through the door. His silver-blue hair is still littered with flower petals, and Sorey lets out a short laugh at the sight.

“Looks like you had a good time,” he teases, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Mikleo sighs as he pulls off his gloves and tosses his head once, causing flower petals to fall to the ground. “As good as it could've been,” he sighs defeatedly, walking up to the bed and seating himself on the other side. “You look comfy,” he adds, smug.

Sorey grins at him. “Your house feels the same as ever! You've got more books now, though.”

“I've been all over Glenwood, and I've written quite a few myself.” Mikleo pulls off his outer coat, revealing a black undershirt similar to Sorey's own. “None of them are quite as good as the Celestial Record, though.”

“I dunno, this one is pretty interesting.” Sorey closes the book in his hands and places it on the bedside table. “Even though your dates are probably wrong,” he says with a grin.

Mikleo huffs. “I'll have you know, my chronology is always perfect.”

“I'm just teasing!” Sorey laughs again at the sight of Mikleo's childish expression. “I really trust your research, honest!”

Then, his smile grows soft, and all of a sudden he feels shy under Mikleo's gaze. There's so much else between them that remains unspoken, and he isn't quite sure where to start.

“Hey, Mikleo,” he begins hesitantly, pulling his arm out from beneath the covers. “There's something I've been meaning to ask you.”

Mikleo raises an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no! I just…” He hesitates before leaning forward, his hand just out of reach of Mikleo's shoulder. “Would it be okay if...I mean, uh—”

“Sorey.”

Mikleo scoots closer on the bed, just close enough for Sorey to touch. “There's no hesitation between us,” he says, coolly meeting Sorey's gaze. “Just say it.”

And just like that, all of Sorey's fears vanish in an instant. He brings a hand up, watching Mikleo's reaction carefully as he takes a lock of the seraph’s hair between his fingers, running it over his palm before letting it fall back into place. It's just as soft as he'd imagined it would be, and he reaches up again to run his hand through Mikleo's fringe, disentangling some of the flower petals lodged there.

“I've wanted to touch your hair all day,” he admits shyly. “Is...is this okay?”

Mikleo is silent for a moment. Then, he lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, placing a hand over his mouth to stifle it.

“Of course,” he breathes, eyes sparkling. “Of course it's okay, Sorey, you don't have to hold back.”

Sorey's chest swells with affection. He's missed this, and he can see that Mikleo feels the same from the way he leans into the touch, allowing Sorey's palm to caress his cheek.

“Is there anything else you've been keeping to yourself, Sorey?” he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone. “You know you can be honest with me.”

“I…” Sorey trails off, licking his lips. He lowers his gaze to Mikleo's mouth, feeling his own lips trembling with fear. He has permission to touch Mikleo's hair, but does he have the right to ask for more?

“Mikleo,” he begins, already hating how breathless he sounds. “Can...can I kiss you?”

Violet eyes grow wide. Sorey's fingers stop—he feels as though he's overstepped his boundaries, but before he can pull his hand away, Mikleo reaches up to touch his wrist, keeping him in place. Then, he places his other hand on Sorey's cheek and leans forward, bringing their foreheads together. From this close, he can see the longing in Mikleo's eyes, and he wonders if his own eyes reflect the same wonder and affection that he feels.

“Can I?” he repeats, breath ghosting over Mikleo's lips.

The way Mikleo sighs in response makes a shiver run down his spine.

“Oh, Sorey,” he whispers. “You don't even have to ask.”

Then, he presses his lips against Sorey's.

The kiss is tingly and cool, like electricity between them, and Sorey pulls him closer for more until they fall back against the bed. Mikleo’s body is pressed against his, and soft open-mouthed moans fill the space between them as Mikleo's tongue slips into his mouth. Sorey feels his body arch upwards, responding to the seraph's touch in every way he can manage.

And when Mikleo pulls away to slide his lips against Sorey’s neck, dragging his fingers down to unclasp the fastenings of his shirt, Sorey closes his eyes and submits himself to gentle, needy hands.

* * *

“So? How'd it go?”

Sorey shuffles his feet and stares at the ground, unable to look Natalie in the eye. “He...let me touch his hair,” he responds after a few moments of awkward silence.

She claps her hands together. “That's great! I'm so glad you were—”

“—and other things, too. A lot of other things.”

“W-what?” Natalie is confused for a moment before her eyes grow wide with realization. “Sorey, you—”

“I-I have to go!” Sorey squeaks suddenly. “Th-thanks for the advice!!”

Before she can get another word in, he dashes down the hill and out of sight. Natalie simply shakes her head, smiling after him.

_‘They really do grow up too fast.’_


End file.
